AKA The Devil
by dropDead-Dreamer
Summary: A 'little' look into Hiruma's head during the Christmas season, yeah that means swearing. Hiru/Sena


**Yeah, I'm back, I haven't been gone for a whole five days and, whoa, I've got like a jillion e-mails and nearly all of it was FF stuff. I love you all thanks for alerting/favoring my stories. (Though I wouldn't put to much hope in one shots for new chapters, sorry folks) Since I've already done a Valentine's Day themed story I decided to get a little into the season and wrote this in record time. Hiruma is such a fun character to write for in first person...**

**Oh and this was written with my dearest beta reader in mind, enjoy Rose Justice!!! (And tell me if you find any spelling or grammer errors)**

**Disclaimers**

**.I don't own Eyeshield 21, but you already knew that didn't you? **

**.I don't own Taco Bell either... **

**3/13/10: Totally realized I failed at the whole Sena/Secutary plot thing. Oh well. **

Evil?

It's a term thrown around often these days, hell I can't get through one day without being called it in at least seven different occasions. Why the hell do you want to know anyway? Whatever, fine, whatever floats your boat. First, kekeke, what's the true definition of evil?

**Evil:**_ (noun) the force in nature that governs and gives rise to wickedness and sin. (Adj.) morally wrong or bad; immoral; wicked: _evil deeds; an evil life._ (Adverb) in an evil manner; badly; ill: _It went evil with him

No dipshit, that's wrong the description of fucking evil isn't going to be in your damn dictionary. Since I've got nothing better to do at the moment I'll lay it out for you nice and simple. Oh and don't even think about running away or telling anyone about this because we really don't want anyone figuring about _that _now do we? Don't even try to deny it fucking idiot, I know _all_ about _that._

Kekeke.

Now where were we? Fucking evil oh yeah, that's right. See despite what cable TV tells you evil isn't cloaked in black, hazardous, feared by the general public, demonic, or batshit scary. That would be me and regardless of what people think I'm not evil.

What the hell's so funny? Yeah nothing, that's what I thought.

Truth be told, I used to believe in your earlier definition of evil too, it's in the dictionary so why screw with it? But that was last year, this year I figured out the annoying ugly truth.

Evil is brown.

What? It's true, why the fuck would I lie? Damn, that was a rhetorical question so stuff it, fucking idiot. Shut your damn trap so I can fucking explain! Better now? Good.

Anyway, its true, evil is brown - hey how about you get out that nifty dictionary of yours and see what you can find on brown. No seriously, I wouldn't shoot you. Maybe. Just hurry it up.

**Brown:**_ (noun) a dark tertiary color with a yellowish or reddish hue. (Adj.) Of animals or humans having skin, fur, hair, or feathers of that color. (Verb) to make or become brown._

Hmm, that's boring, anyway, whenever I thought of brown I would connect it to shit, it's pretty much a shitty color after all. I still do but in a difference sense and _maybe _if you shut up for a couple of minutes I _might _explain.

See when I say 'brown' I don't just mean the color itself, if anything I should say 'brown eyes' but brown hair annoys me just as much. Hell if he wore a brown shirt it would piss me off too. Yeah, yeah, you know who I'm talking about.

The damn fucking shrimp, also known as fucking Eyeshield 21, fucking pipsqueak, or fucking Kobayakawa Sena, take your choice it doesn't really matter.

The kid's not really that flamboyant; brown hair, pretty much a midget, brown eyes, and in multiple ways a real tight ass. Probably been more trouble than anything so far, bringing along the fucking manager like a second, more vocal, shadow.

But back to brown evil, it didn't take me long to realize that either the pipsqueak had some lengthy mastermind plan that involved turning nearly every football player he runs by gay or the kid is really is as much as a dipshit as he seems.

No, not kidding, I don't think there's been a game since those damn annoying Cupids where, in the end, that little damn twerp didn't end up with some perverted new 'buddy'. But it's not like I care, and if you keep up with that look it's going to get super glued that way.

Normally a kid like the twerp might have turned out usefully, what better way to screw with a macho guy's head than with his sexuality? Other than death threats of course, I couldn't think of anything better. But you know how there's some of those fucking offbeat things that always manage to piss a person off?

I know all about those; silverware scratching against plates, velcro pealing, spam, and commercials where they repeat the same thing over and over. SUVs, people who take the fucking stall next to you just to creep you out, tax collectors. Dentist offices that send postcards on holidays, fucking idiots who go to public places and yell into their cell phones, et certia.

Well for me the things that never cease to piss me off is watching the fucking shrimp getting hit on while he's thinking that the fucking pervert's being real fucking friendly, so I intervene and end up in an epic amount of shit.

Take last Friday for example, right after a healthy, friendly, safe, supervised team practice (and don't get the fucking idea that it was anything but) I noticed the fucking pipsqueak blabbing away to one of the fucking Ha-Ha brothers.

They were standing over by the bleachers, both had already changed, and the brother, Jyuumonji's the name I think, was chugging down some liquid agreeing with whatever the shrimp was blabbering about. Off-handily I thought about how friendly the fucking shrimp's gotten with them, mostly the Jyuumonji one.

Yep, that's all it took to fuck my day completely paranoid. Pissed off I headed his way - what was that?

Jealous?

You know these walls are looking pretty thick, I wonder if their soundproof, wanta check? No? I didn't think so.

Anyway I headed over managing to scare the shrimp out of his shit; the kid was pathetically oblivious to his surroundings. "Oi, fucking secretary aren't you suppose to be putting the equipment away somewhere?" I asked and the shrimp bolted, by now knowing better than to argue. (Now that I think about it I don't think I said anything on the matter beforehand but that's just details.)

I turned to the fuckin' brother who was attempting to glare at me, not an easy task when I still had some rather incriminating negative photographs. Ask and the bullets fly. Pissed off on my now ruined day I looked down at his plastic water bottle.

"Is that red Gatorade?" I asked catching him off guard; let's just say I'm not usually one for small talk.

"Um, yeah?" He answered hesitantly, whoa lucky guess.

"Opps."

I turned not even bothering to watch as the paranoia washed over his face, aw I felt better already. Heading behind my clubhouse I found the shrimp attempting to drag a bag full of footballs back to the shed, which ironically had previously been the old clubhouse.

Keyword: attempting. It wasn't like the twerp wasn't putting any effort into it, the pipsqueak was going all out war against the stupid bag tugging like there was no tomorrow. But the way he was going on with it the bag wasn't moving any time soon.

I watched for a couple seconds until I got bored deciding on calling out rather than just popping out from behind the kid, didn't want him getting a stroke later on down the road.

"Fucking pipsqueak!" Hmm, well let's just say that didn't work. I mentally scratched out my 'not scaring the shit out of the shrimp' plan, definitely a failure to launch. Maybe it would have worked better if I hadn't been shooting…

"H-hai! Hiruma-san!" He replied dropping the bag and turning to face me more directly. "Leave that for the damn fatty, instead you can go jog a couple hundred laps until your leg muscle makes up for those twig arms." I threatened and his shoulders sagged. Instantly he looked up at me with a why-did-you-kick-the-puppy-dog expression, like I was doing it on purpose just out of spite.

Okay so I was, but still, but he was totally ruining my buzz bringing around those lower-than-shit, guh, _feelings._ "What did you have plans?" I asked pissed because of the whole dead-buzz thing going on. What was wrong with the twerp?

"No of course not! … Well, actually," He stared down at his feet wringing his hands together nervously; it kind of sucked just the tiniest bit. At times the kid was still just the same spineless pipsqueak that I found back last spring but sometimes he would surprise everyone with having balls.

I preferred the less irresolute one, didn't need to worry as much about him. The shrimp stared at me nervously and I surprised myself somehow finding some untapped patience and didn't bring out any guns.

"Actually, um, I sort of did have plans tonight." The only reason that statement peaked my interest was because I was pretty sure that the kid didn't have a social life other than football, yeah I'm fucking serious, what would make you think differently?

"What plans, might I ask?" I asked causally loading a M4 Carbine, for targeting purposes, of course. "Oh don't worry; it's nothing that Hiruma-san would find interesting I promise." He waved his hands around franticly, afterwards adding a jumble of apologizes that I didn't bother to progress.

"How about you humor me fucking pipsqueak?" I challenged with a wicked grin and he giggled nervously before drifting his attention down to his shoes.

"I really don't want to waste your time," He muttered. Guh, why the hell did the every conversation with the twerp always end up in circles?

"Just spit it out."

"I am- er, was going to go C-Christmas shopping,"

Oh yeah another thing I should add to that annoying shit list from earlier, Christmas.

As far I was concerned the whole month of December should be shipped off to hell in a gift basket. The only good damn thing was the Christmas Bowl and that was still painful away. But not counting football, I detested the whole holiday season, damn the cold, the increase on prices and those so-called 3 a.m. sales, and, god, the _happy_ people. You would have thought they created the whole thing with me in mind, everything I hated wrapped up with a red and green fucking bow.

Not even that fucking manager dared to challenge me on the subject thankfully, the chick definitely gave off that sort of 'cheer to all mankind' sort of vibe. Not saying that she gave up entirely just for me, god forbid, just the other day she had given the miserable shrimp a large tin of brown unidentified crap. Fruitcake, yeah right.

In a nutshell, fuck Christmas.

"Well let's go don't want all of those fucking basterds your buyin' shit for pissed off at me."

Remember what I said a little bit earlier about associating brown with shit? Well, I did weren't you paying attention? What do you mean 'Is that a threat?' I don't make stupid things like _threats_ I make promises.

Anyway, brown=shit right, since you obviously can't think that far back I'll help out again, see I also mentioned that whenever I think of brown _shit_ is sooner or later floating around in my head.

Like now, there I was thinking how much I hated shit. By now I made it a pretty clear fact that I didn't quite get a huge thrill with December.

But somehow I roped my own ass into trailing after the pipsqueak, following him around across an over-crowed mall carrying loads of his crap acting like I actually gave a _damn _about the fuckin' Holiday Season. Not to count that annoying brunet just couldn't shut up.

"Hiruma-san you really don't have to be, um, c-could you reach up there and get that I think my cousin into that sort of thing." I grunted out something-or-another handing the shrimp the lava lamp for his dearest fucking cousin.

"I really like these things, I wonder how they work?" One of the first things I learned about the fucking shrimp was that A) he was fast and B) the kid liked to talk to himself a lot. Majority of the self-talking happened when he was nervous but at times it was just a spur of the moment thing. Even though he was likely just talking to himself (89.5% chance actually) but I decided to answer anyway.

"It's simple shrimp, the compounded wax – the lava – is heated from a 40-watts incandescent light bulb, when warm the wax becomes less dense than the rest of the liquid and floats to the top. Wax cools next to instantly though so it quickly solidifies and sinks to the bottom where it heats again." I had to resist the urge to add 'fucking duh' because seriously, who the hell wouldn't know that?

"Oh, wow, um, that's a lot, er, simpler than I would have though." The twerp stated studying his box before turning to look up at me like some tourist seeing their first Buddhist monk or whatnot.

"That's because it's American, now are we going to stand here all fucking day or are you going to go pay for that?" I snapped and he speeded away digging out money from his pockets, coming back with a large bag. Another damn heavy thing lovely, now that I think about it why the hell was I the one carrying all the damn stuff?

Sometimes even I need a FNP-45 to the skull, definitely when there's fucking brown eyes involved. "Hiruma-san a-are y-you, um, h-hungry? We've b-been, um, er, h-here f-f-for a, um, um, couple hours now, it's almost, around, um, s-supper t-time."

I could already feel the throbbing as my nervous system sent a rush of additional blood and oxygen cells through the network of fiber in the tissues, muscles, and blood vessels in my fucking head. What's with the blank look don't you know what a headache is? Damn, do I have to spell it out for you or something?

Whatever, anyway, the twerp was stuttering real bad – probably thought I was going to shoot him or something. Of course the idea was slightly appealing, but seriously we were in a mall and I'm smart enough to know that pulling out a gun in front of a jewelry store could get me in a mountain of deep shit. (Not that it stopped me before, but house arrest makes it not worth the effort.)

"Speak straight fucking shrimp - you're walking the wrong way food court's to the right – anyway what's got your panties up in a twist?" I was kind of curious, just a little bit earlier (34.5 minutes actually) he had been just fine, clumsy perhaps, but not nearly as antsy.

Then he got that far out gaze in those annoying brown eyes and fell silent (after awhile you just sort of go along with it) and now he was acting like he was trying to hide some fucking horrible crime. (He wasn't or _I _would already know.)

I shepherd the pipsqueak into the food court scanning the large overstuffed area chuckling when I found _exactly _what I wanted. Kekeke. Out of my providential vision I caught movement on the shrimp's part and turned finding him drifting into the American Burger line wearing his little glazed out expression again.

The line was slightly smaller than the rest, understandable since the chain wasn't even popular in America, let alone Japan.

"No bad twerp, we're going over here." I explained dragging him over to the now frightened cashier over at the **Taco Bell** whose line 'mysteriously' vanished. **(3D: I'm eating Taco Bell food right now, so I guess Hiruma would too. Maybe, whatever.) **

"Hiruma-san don't you ever think that, um, maybe it's not quite a good idea to blackmail people all the time?" The twerp asked me a short minute later (9.04 minutes) eating his free taco trying to give me a skeptical glare. (Kid can't pull something like that off he just ends up looking nervous.)

"No, I'm too busy for stuff like that." I explained heaving my feet on top of the table damn they hurt. "Doing what? Other than football," He pestered, was it just me or had pipsqueak been cockier of late? No, you don't have to answer that.

"Finding the fucking blackmail of course," The shrimp just sighed rolling his brown eyes. "Is there anyone you don't have something on?" Good question, sort of.

"No one in Brazil; yet," I said with a smirk and he nodded staring at me with wide eyes probably taking me serious, for some reason the kid didn't seem to think that I ever lied. Yeah, really bad character judgment on his part.

"You don't have anything on me right?" He asked nervously and I leaned across the table wearing a wicked smile.

"Hiding something _Sena_?" The pipsqueak chuckled nervously making some sort of high-pitched chatter before his face started losing color, I sat back down in my chair waiting calmly for him to either choke on air or finish with his little panic attack.

"Like perhaps the fact that you've been waking up at 5 oh' 6 every morning to go jogging with 'Shin-san'?" Return of the panic attack, it was pretty amusing to watch his face go beet red, much better than the whole pale thing. I checked a cell phone in my pocket for the time, it was getting pretty late, ate some more of whatever I was eating, stretched back, drank some soda.

"Are you finished let?" I snapped and he nodded suddenly quiet and sheepish, I picked up my trash – that reminds me I have to stuff some dog crap into that Dread-head's gym locker, caught the basterd staring at the pipsqueak's ass, again – and threw it away.

I headed back to the entrance, the pipsqueak following behind like a second shadow; me still carrying the shrimp's stuff. For the train ride and short walk to his house the shrimp had been amusingly silent, brooding to himself about something or another.

"Hiruma-san since you're here do you want something to drink? We have tea or, um, coffee if you want any."

"Sure whatever," I breezed pass him into the house dropping the bags to the floor with a thud, damn my fucking arms hurt, screw being nice to people.

"Thank you for coming today Hiruma-san, it was nice."

I swear he said stuff like that on purpose.

"Right, whatever where's this coffee?"

The pipsqueak nodded and bolted off into the kitchen, I waited until I heard the sound of crashing metal pots before I followed behind, screw being polite, I didn't want the kid killing himself. I followed the noise entering a typical small Japanese kitchen.

Seeing me at the door frame the shrimp's eyes suddenly widened and his face flushed.

"Oh! Hiruma-san d-d-don't, um, come in here." He ordered while walking my way, needless to say I don't exactly listen to orders well. "What the hell are you doing? Are you fucking bleeding or something?" I asked raising an eyebrow as he tried to push me out of the kitchen.

"N-no I'll be, um, I'm fine. Yeah so, um, why don't you, um, g-go back, um, to, er, the living room." With each 'um' he glanced up nervously, curiously right above me. I turned up and chuckled to myself, god.

Above us was a hanging lamp and fastened onto it with female perfection was that infamous weed (tectonically it's shrubbery though), mistletoe. For a moment I just stared at it before looking back down, the pipsqueak had quite his little shoving act and stood frozen his hand still spread out on my chest. I huffed looking up again, damn it, if was anyone else…

"I-I was going to warn you but, um, sorry." For some hellacious reason the pipsqueak was whispering, keeping those damn amber eyes wide.

"Eating that stuff will give you the runs you know." _Shit!_ Even while talking I was already swearing myself out, I sure knew how to fuck up a mood.

"Really? But that one's plastic so I don't think I have to worry." He stated before trying to take a step back, his knees buckled and he nearly collapsed. I grabbed onto his arm, listing off a couple favorite swear words under my breath.

"Nervous about something?" I asked and he looked up at me his amber brown eyes wide, grr, aw, what the hell.

Brown is evil, right? So it's safe to say that it was obviously those brown eyes fault that instead of just whacking his upside the head then leaving, I leaned down – short kid – and kissed square on the lips. Twice. I think.

So I guess you were right after all, Christmas does have a few perks.

--

**Thanks to Hiruma I think my Word 2003 added, like, ten new swear words to its dictionary. My poor annoying Paper Clip thingy it's overworked. **


End file.
